“Then send some one to see, Miss Ravenscroft.
One or two of the teachers would be the best.
They could go to the quarry to-night and wait there
in order to see if the girls arrive. If they do,
my orders are that they take no apparent notice of
them, but write down the names of all present.
If that can be done, and you are successful in finding
the girls, we shall have the matter, as it were, in
a nutshell, and we shall soon crush this disgraceful
rebellion.”

“And what about Kathleen?” asked Miss
Ravenscroft.

“There is very little doubt that she will have
to be expelled. Such a girl as that is a firebrand
in a school, and however rich she may be, and however
well-born, the sooner she leaves us the better.”

CHAPTER XXI.

THE SOCIETY MEETS AT MRS. CHURCH’S COTTAGE.

That evening at about a quarter to eight a band of
perfectly silent girls might have been seen walking
along the road that led to Mrs. Church’s cottage.
They walked as much as possible on the grass, and
glided in single file. Each one, as they expressed
it, had her heart in her mouth. Occasionally
they looked behind them; sometimes they started at
an ordinary shadow, thinking that a policeman at least
would be waiting for them. The foundationers
who called themselves the Wild Irish Girls had very
little doubt what it would mean if their scheme was
discovered. They knew, of course, that Miss Ravenscroft
would be furiously angry, that the governors would
have something to say to them, and that they might
be dismissed from the school unless they promised to
cease to belong to the society. Perhaps there
were worse things than that. There was a timid
little girl called Janey Ford, who whispered to her
friend that the Wild Irish Girls belonged to the rebels
in Ireland, and that it might be considered necessary
by the government of the country to have them taken
up and put into prison. Nobody for a single moment
believed Janey Ford’s silly remarks, but nevertheless
they gave a sort of thrill to the occasion. It
was all delightful, this stealing away in the dark,
this pressing one against another as they walked down
the little road. And then Kathleen was so fascinating;
her eyes were so bright; she was such a valiant sort
of leader. If they were men and she was a man,
Janey Ford had whispered to her great friend Edith
Hart, they would follow her to the death.

“We’d form a crusade for her,” Edith
had whispered, back. “She is magnificent.”

And then both girls felt the little heart-shaped lockets
round their necks and thought of themselves as heroines.

The entire party, numbering about forty-three in all,
arrived at the cottage. Susy suddenly put in
her appearance.

“Girls,” she said, “it isn’t
at all certain that we are safe. I saw a man
going by not ten minutes ago, and he looked suspiciously
at the house. Miss Ravenscroft would do anything
to catch us; but Aunt Church says that if you go into
the yard she doesn’t think you will be seen or
heard.—­May I take the girls into the yard,
Kathleen? And may I take you and Miss O’Flynn
into the house to see Aunt Church?”